Lisa Day

As you know, Sunday was Lisa Day.
You did know that right. You saw the ads in all the store circulars, the hallmark card signs, the commercials for FTD….no huh.
Lisa Day was dreamt up by our kids. It falls directly between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, and follows a similar tradition as those day. Could be breakfast in bed…might be a brunch, or as it was this year – sushi dinner ...yay.
When you looking for a really good solution to a situation, ask a child – sometimes they will come up with solutions when you didn’t even realize you needed one. They reason better than we grown people do, its much more uncluttered. As lesbian parents you have to make some decisions early on. (Hopefully, in time this will not be as much of an issue as it was near 20 years ago… when we started on this adventure.). Well, I never wanted a ‘mom’ title. I am not the mother of our children. They did not (as my articulate wife may put it) spring forth from my loins. Some couples come up with alternate titles for the second parent – but I didn’t want to make something up. To the kids I have always been Lisa (or … Weese). So after a few Mother’s and Father’s Day celebrations passed – they realized there was no day for me, this seemed to make no sense to them so… they simply made one (now…these were small kids at the time – so appropriate credit must be given to my patient wife for orchestration and some guidelines so we wouldn’t be say…bungee jumping rather than enjoying the more docile Sunday brunch). And so – every year since then there is a day just for me… which, by the way, tends to float a bit depending on the year – so I never really know when its gonna happen and the kids revel in this surprise.

I had a lovely day. Spent the early afternoon doing something I love – puttering around doing any little project that presents itself, which most of the time will involve power tools, probably some paint, for sure a broom and the occasional hose and bucket. Followed by a fabulous sushi dinner – where both kids actually tried the raw fish for the first time. Then home to the patio for smores roasted over the chiminea.